Today's poems [11.7.10]
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For the prick-naming prize of Pinole
This year's winner was Daniel O'Dole.
He will tell you with bonhommie,
"I call mine 'Metonymy,'
Because it's a part for the whole."
There was a young girl named Maxine
Whose vagina was wondrously clean:
With her uterus packed
She kept safe from attack
With a dill pickle, papulous, green.
There was a young lad from Nahant
Who was made like the Sensitive Plant.
When asked, "Do you fuck?"
He replied, "No such luck.
I would if I could but I can't."
A certain young man of St. Paul
Consistently practiced withdrawal.
This quaint predilection
Created such friction,
He soon had no foreskin at all.
There once was a lass from Seattle
Who had a habit of sucking off cattle,
'Till a bull from the south
Shot a load in her mouth
And made her ovaries rattle!
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